Paled Comfort
by Bloodrose 10
Summary: Life doesn't care much when changing its colours. Will Maes once again find true love after the tragic death of his wife? And a family that he truly desired for? Maes/Roy. Adoption ahead! Yaoi and parental complex highly aroused- no less than a mpreg!
1. Prologue

**Sommary:** Life doesn't care much when changing its colours- to vibrant shades or fading ones. Will Maes find true love and happiness after the tragic death of his wife? Will he find a family that he truly desired for? Maes/Roy. Adoption ahead! (Not mpreg but the boys and an adopted kid. Boy's love and parental complex - it's no less than a mpreg!)

**AN:** My second fic and it's my first multichapter fic as well! I've tried my best to keep everyone in character, especially Maes. Timeline- when Roy has been promoted to the rank of Colonel and as for the Elrics- well they will have guest appearances but mostly will stay in the background. The first three or four chapters will be the foundation of my main plot which will get interesting, I guarrantee! So till then, hang on to me and...now, I stop my non-sense. :D

**Warning:** None for this chapter. But be prepared for the forthcoming ones! :D

Special thanks to Kika 1 for being such a wonderful beta.

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**Paled Comfort**

**Prologue**

The fragile body laid still, motionless right in the middle of the now empty street. Legs bent and arms stretched out by her head, evident that she was not in this position by choice. Hair covered her delicate face, sand-coloured strands scattered disobediently all over, in random directions, its disarray leaving no indication of how carefully it had been styled not long before. Blood gushed out from her skull, flowing unhindered over the ground, slowing to a trickle till it gathered to form a shallow lake of crimson. Patches of dried blood stuck to her pale forehead, her skin cold and lifeless.

Gracia Hughes was dead. She had already shed her mortal coil long before her now insensitive skin received the last touch from her husband, as her screaming daughter looked on, him shaking her, begging, whispering into her deaf ears to wake up. To talk, to smile once more. But Maes knew as well as everyone else that had been present there that she was not going to return. She would not speak or show her wonderful smile again.

It is bizarre how lives can change in just a blink of an eye, always leaving behind people to ponder upon a 'what if'! The 'what if'-s could never change what Fate had in store for anyone who dared to question it. It could either be for the better, or for the worse...in this case, however, there was no sign of this being the 'better' path for life to have taken.

It had been a street accident. A car, driving far too fast on the city street, collided with an unaware Gracia. The sudden impact had thrown the poor woman off her feet and back to the ground as gravity took its painful toll. After sustaining such a blow, it was impossible to cheat death. . . even for a woman of immense strength like Gracia Hughes.

Maes slowly stood up from beside his wife's body. He removed his glasses, fogged with tears, and covered his eyes in an attempt to stop the fluid was still flowing from them. He couldn't take it anymore. His whole body trembled as a hot, swelling pain circulated through his heart. He couldn't believe it. This couldn't be happening to him. He felt as if his family had been shattered before his very eyes.

Gracia's sister, her mother, and of course, her young daughter -- they were all in different states of shock and confusion as well. The toddler was crying; confused as to exactly what was going on, but somehow knowing her mother was not coming back. Gracia's sister, previously a vibrant young bride-to-be, looked shell-shocked, while her mother had simply fainted upon seeing the body. The husband -- widower, now! -- seemed to be taking it the hardest. He himself was devastated and was losing grip on his strength, but he knew he needed to be strong for his daughter. He knew this, but he could barely hold himself together, much less be strong for her as well! The sounds of his daughter's sobs only added to his own sorrow and fear -- fear of a life without his mate, his love, his daughter's mother!

He could not believe how quickly the world turned against him. He could still hear her. Her calm yet jovial voice still kept ringing in his ears, as if she was there, there beside him, speaking in careless whispers which no one else could hear. An hour ago did he hear her voice, her ever so merry voice, saying she'd be back from shopping. Gracia had been really excited about her sister's upcoming marriage. She could not wait to see the perfect gown, the perfect jewelry, the perfect decors that she'd arranged. But, painful as it was, God obviously had other plans...

A tiny gasp escaped from Maes's mouth when he felt a hand on his shoulder. The hand, whoever it belonged to, squeezed its resting place, gently and warmly. The touch. . . it was exactly what Maes needed right now. So reassuring, so comforting. Maes removed his hands from the wet, red-rimmed eyes and looked up to see who it was and when he did, he was not at all surprised. Instead, he rested his head against the man's chest, burying his face into it as he let the sorrow he felt pour out of the place where his heart used to be.

The other man gently wrapped his arms around the weeping man, resting his chin on the head of the widowed man and murmuring gentle useless yet comforting words, like a mother to her child.

"How did this happen, Roy?" Maes asked, his voice cracking as he looked up at his friend. "How could she leave us?"

Roy had no good answer for the man. All he could do was pull the other's head more closely to his chest and hold him as the other shed his tears.

"She was alive. . . alive when I saw her. . . told- that she was going out for a while. . . that she'd be back before dinner!" The words were interrupted at intervals by hiccupping sobs and shaky breaths.

"Maes. . ."

"How did this happen? It was her_ own_ fault! How _dare_ she!!" Maes said, his voice expressing the sheer pain he was experiencing. "How dare she to leave us like this! Why couldn't she watch where she was going? Why couldn't she. . ."

Maes could speak no more. His bitter cries overpowered his power of speech. Thankfully, Elicia was not around to see her father fall apart. Lt. Hawkeye had stepped in to take the girl away from the crowd, somewhere to try to calm her down. She had been crying, painful-sounding sobs forcing their way out of her tiny body. Was he actually glad for her absence? So that he'd not have to look in those expecting eyes, waiting for her daddy to give a reassuring reply as always? Was he glad because he knew that he would not be able to do so? Perhaps so. For the first time, Maes was actually relieved to not hearing his daughter's voice.

She was screaming, begging her mother to come back, and he wanted nothing more than to scream with her. Instead, he cried until there were no more tears left in him.

He held on to Roy just as Roy held on to him. Roy usually never showed his softer side to anyone other than Maes, and even that was rare. However, this was one time he did let himself free from the cold walls and barriers of protocol and sarcasm. It was one of those times when Roy Mustang showed how compassionate and gentle he could be -- and by the looks of things, he had no difficulty being there for his friend when he was needed.

For a long time, neither said a word. The moonlight fell softly on the two men, one deeply grieved, the other feeling his friend's pain. Gracia's loss was not an easy one; she had touched many lives, and now all of those who had known her were paying the price in tears.

The heaviest burden of all was on the shoulders of the shattered husband and lost father. For now he could lean on Roy, but sooner or later he would have to pick up the pieces. Tonight, though, Maes was lost in utter despair.

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Now that the chapter comes to an end, I just want to say, please! Please review the story! It'll encourage me more and the output will be a wonderful fic! If you have any question/suggestion/whatever, feel free to share. If you have any flames/just another reason to quarrel, then you better not waste your time.

Thank you,

Bloodrose 10


	2. Illusive Reality

**Paled Comfort**

**Illusive Reality**

**Warning: **Apart from this chapter being partly beta'd...none!

**AN: **I'm sorry it took me so long to upload this chapter. I have sort of lost contact with my beta...and after waiting for her, I've decided to finally put this up. No. It's not her fault. The time, I guess, isn't on our side. :D But anyways, chapter 2. It's up. It's there. Go read. And please, review... :D

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Maes stood silently on his balcony overlooking the peaceful neighborhood. Arms rested on the railings, citrine eyes gazing over the sky, his mind filled with many thoughts.

The sun had bid the day's goodbye in the west, leaving behind an orange tinge wrapped in gold in the color-soaked sky, its dying rays finally melting into a warm, soft red as evening finally began to set in. Summer air rustled through his scalp, playing gently with dark strands, ignoring completely the man's attempt of straightening them, whistling some unheard melodies of playful nature as they went by.

Yet, something kept him from enjoying these natural gifts completely. His eyes slowly narrowed as a thought crossed his mind.

He did not like it. He did not like how Gracia was so ecstatic about her sister's marriage. Not that it was anything unnatural or that he did not like his wife's side of the family! It wasn't like that. Not at all. In fact, he had a very cordial, or more so, formal relation with his in-laws which wasn't forced by any means!

However, there was one thing that he knew was conflicting with his interests. That one thing had somehow created an invisible wall between he and his in-laws. That one very thing, or rather, one being would often result in cold comments between Maes and themselves; unnatural yet firm words that would lead them onto the verge of quarrel.

Elicia.

They'd always had a notion of holding sway over Maes' little daughter. Each time they came or each time the Hughes family visited the Jones, the eldest of the Jones would whisk Elicia away from her parents and later on shower her with gifts of unimaginable nature and quantity. They would tell her often how they wished she'd come and live with them forever, sneakily asking her if she'd miss her dad and mom if she were to stay with them. They would pull this uncharacteristic sneaky act while Gracia was busy catching up with her folks and Maes trying to have a decent conversation with that familiar uncomfortable swelling feeling in his heart.

He hated it. He hated the way Gracia's parents became so possessive of Elicia. He hated how they tried to make her feel more loved being with them. He hated it altogether! Maes knew they would not dare take her away from him, but it was always a niggling worry in his subconscious. That's what he feared the most. Of being alone. Being separated from his daughter, the one whom he loved the most apart from his beloved spouse.

He absolutely despised this feeling.

He loathed that fear of being alone.

Completely stranded.

Amidst his thoughts, Maes had felt a warm embrace at his back. A head gently rested on his reliable shoulder and the person in turn, showed her gratitude by placing light kisses on his neck.

"Had a nice nap?" Maes asked, still facing the sky.

"Pretty much."

Gracia had a wonderful voice and it sounded even nicer and fresher after her rest. "Kathleen chose a wonderful dress. So rich and lustrous."

Maes was not in the least interested in dresses. Especially if it had anything to do with Kathleen Jones -- the bride-to-be. They had always had their differences. They had popped up more often recently, and the barrier grew colder and harder between them -- more in Kathleen's marriage period than ever.

Still, he tried to look satisfied, hoping a smile would be more than enough from him for his wife to let the issue go unnoticed as she usually did. So, he smiled. Just smiled, not knowing what else to say to her without sounding artificial.

But Gracia was not ignorant. She smiled in return and took her husband's shoulders in her delicate hands; gently turning him so that she could fully face the man she loved the most. Raising her face and lips perked, she slowly moved towards the other and placed a quick kiss on the awaiting lips.

"Is something bothering you?" She asked, drawing away, noticing the thoughtful expression on her husband's face. She knew she would not get any direct answers and that he'd try his best to lie to her. But she kept on pressing him, asking him one way or the other till he finally had no option but to tell her that very issue which had been a part of him since their marriage.

To Maes' surprise, Gracia did not get offended. Instead, she drew him into yet another warm kiss and softly whispered in his ear. She assured him that she and Elicia would always remain beside him, remain in his heart. They had a bond; a strong bond that no one would be able to break. Not even in death.

They embraced each other, regardless of the time or the people who might see. Maes felt so gratified. He felt light and happy being with his wife. A feeling of comfort and assurance that he loved to experience...that feeling he got only while he had Gracia with him, in front of him, by his side.

Maes would give anything to remain in his wife's arms -- sometimes, he even wished time would freeze, but he appreciated what he had. The solace and tenderness that he felt right now was incomparable to any material wants or needs he had ever had in his life.

While in embrace, he heard his beloved speak in the most soothing tone, "I love you, Maes. I'd never leave you."

"I know, Love. But I get this weird feeling. I-I really can't explain it but it's. . . kind of overwhelming. . . in a negative sense. A fear that my worries will come true." He continued, holding her closer to himself and tighter, "No matter how hard I try to ignore this sinking feeling, the harder it gets to drown it!"

"Don't worry too much!" Came a reply, in the lowest of whispers, "Those are nothing. I'll always remain a part of your life."

Maes slowly opened his eyes and slowly focused on the woman before him. He smiled as he felt her words soothing the aching spot in his heart. Seconds later, his contented expression turned to one of horror.

_What the-!  
_  
He sprang back a step at what he saw! Was this possible? No! It couldn't be!

Gracia was disappearing in to thin air! Her form grew more transparent by the second. She continued to smile contentedly as he watched his worst fears come true.

"No! This can't be happening! Gracia! No! Don't. . . don't go!"

He frantically screamed in frustration and helplessness. How could this be possible? It wasn`t! He must be in a dream! Things like this just did not happen. He tried to reassure himself by reaching out to touch her, but his attempt was in vain -- it felt nothing like flesh! It felt as if Maes was touching water which did not leave his hands wet.

"Gracia, what is going on?" he demanded, fear making his voice rough.

He begged her, implored her to stay. Screaming in fear and confusion, he helplessly watched as his wife, his love slowly faded away into nothingness.

"Please, Gracia," he pleaded, "Don't go! Don't leave me like this!" By now, he was almost on the verge of tears.

Tear-brimmed eyes helplessly watched as Gracia's now transparent form prepared to mix completely with the air. Yet, before the ultimate end, she murmured her final words to Maes, her wonderfully lively smile still attached to her lips, "I love you Maes. I'll never leave you alone."

And with that, she vanished completely, evaporating into the orange light that drenched the whole sky, leaving only an echo of her last words.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A loud gasp escaped from his lips as wild eyes shot open and Maes jolted up to settle into a sitting position. Sweat beaded his entire body and his heart thumped as if it wanted to break free from its mortal bondage. Maes panted heavily and tried to banish the dream from memory. He looked around his dark room and sighed in relief when he was completely assured that he was sleeping there, all alone. No one had been with him.

"It was just a dream." He murmured to himself, as shaky hands brushed his wet bangs across his scalp. He clung to his sheets as if his life depended on it and tried to clear his mind. His whole body trembled from the shock and emotional stress of what he had just seen in his mind. It was just a dream. A horrifyingly symbolic one but yet, a dream. A notion of his subconscious mind. A fresh trauma, yet to be dealt with.

It had been a dream. It had to be one. . . but it had seemed so real, so painfully vivid.

Having regained his composure, he looked out his window. It was the beginning of a day break. The sky still wore it's luxurious dark robe, now showed signs of fading into dawn`s light.

*

Elicia tottered her way into the kitchen and looked around with emerald eyes still full of sleep and despair. It was the hardest morning of her life. A morning without her mom and her sweet tune of "Good morning". She sighed helplessly as she began to realize that from then onwards, each morning would be no different than this one. It took her all night's weeping to finally take in that her mom was no more. That Elicia would keep on missing that warm touch, that loving smile which no one else could bring to his lips. She thought that she had the perfect real life "doll-house".

She was wrong.

Doll-houses weren't real. They weren't perfect.

Neither was hers.

She no longer had the mother-doll. It's place would remain a void forever.

Now, she only had her dad. Her father whom she loved dearly, more so after her mom left her- for good.

Yawning, she made her way up to the kitchen table, where, she saw her dad still in robes, trying to read the paper in hand with unfocused eyes- somewhat reddened and puffy. The breakfast lay in front of the table. It was nothing much. Two plates- both untouched having two pieces of toast and an egg omelette each of the shape of the Grim Reaper's robe.

She pulled her plate towards her and began nibbling on one of the breads, glancing occasionally at her dad- who was more silent than ever. She understood why. She might be a child but definitely was not stupid.

The toasts being finished, now came the turn of the omelette. Her little teeth pecked it slowly and quietly as she patiently waited for Maes to turn on his peppy-mode.

Nope. Still quiet.

She continued eating.

"Are you ready?"

The little girl slowly looked up to the source of the voice. Finally, he spoke. Softly and soothingly as he ever did. He wore a smile on his lips. But it was more than warmth that it had contained. It contained loneliness which was written brightly on his face.

She nodded silently, knowing well that the didn't only mean her day at preschool. That, he meant her to be ready for the tough life that lay ahead was fully understood by the small girl.

"Good." Maes slowly got up from his chair. He patted the chestnut strands lovingly and grabbed his keys, while he went on, "Then we'd better hurry. Otherwise, we're going to be late. And we both know very well," he said, eyes resisting hard to soak up the newly formed tears, "Mommy wouldn't want us to be late."

Without another word, they both headed for the door and out into the new world.

But the world hadn't changed. It was the perspective that did.

*

For a long time there was nothing said between the two best friends. While one pretended to work, the other sat silently. So silent that if it hadn't been for the frequent sighs, the younger of the two would have not noticed his presence. It was pain-staking. It was the kind of solace that Roy Mustang wished for three years...but now, even he regretted that his wish so horrifyingly came true.

He flipped pages of a random folder, trying hard to concentrate on the subject matter it dealt with.

Coalmine at Dublith reportedly enriched with Cu, Ag, Ca, He, CH4...

He stole frequent glances at his widowed friend from where he sat but quickly brought it on the boring btyped pages of white and black. He didn't know why...but it was as if Roy wanted Maes to notice him, to look at him, to just say 'hey' if not actually speak to him.

But no, neigh, nada! The older man was a quiet as a...a horse. An old horse more like it!

It was a different feeling which couldn't be put into words. As if Roy was being suffocated by the silence. The uncharacteristic silence that covered the whole office room, making it more humid. It made Roy feel to tear down this thick sheet of quietness by his own deep voice. He parted his lips, licked them, parted them again and finally closed them before looking down at the folder in his hands. He did so numerous times. He was plain and simply uncomfortable by Maes' so uncharacteristic behavious.

At times, Roy felt like getting up from his seat and slap the silent man back into the real world. At least then, he'd be yelled at- which was sort of like some form of a conversation- a raging one albeit- still a conversation- an exchange of words! But Roy knew better,

He missed the usual rambling of one's lovely wife, how she looked beautiful while being pregnant, how she looked simply divine with jewels of sweat under the shining light, how she looked so angelic holding their daughter- a messenger of cuteness herself...

He didn't believe that he was actually wishing these. For when Maes did ramble, he wanted him to shush, mainly because he was annoyed but also because...he felt weird. Unnoticed. Lost. He fe;lt a strange balloon in his heart which started to swell while engulfing the air of Maes' comments about his perfect family.

It was awkward. Perhaps because, Maes had a family and Roy felt that he wasn't the sole being in Maes' life...but all those were to be put aside now. For now, Maes needed something that would cheer him up slightly...and make Roy less uncomfortable.

"I think", he started in his usual tone, "I should let Fullmetal take the Beginner's calligraphy programme."

The other didn't respond so emphatically as Roy would've wanted him to. Instead, he took a pause from is musings and without even looking at Roy, he shrugged.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever!"

As said, Roy wasn't expecting this type of reply. He was expecting silence, maybe but definitely not ignorance. And Maes' voice seemed to be full if it as if he wanted Roy to shush and get on with whatever he was doing. Roy's lips slightly perked up as he looked back again at the folder in front, a mild pout forming because of this unwilling equivocation.

He tried to do what he had been trying for the past hour and a half- as long as Maes were there, sitting on his office couch- but his mind screamed otherwise. A fraction of a second later, he found himself again peering at Maes' fed-up-with-the-world-face and desperately tried to think of a topic that would actually evokle their conversation, also taking Maes' mind off the despair that the poor guy was facing.

"It's a menace. Trying to make out all these chicken scratches." Roy really tried hard, "Here, look at this!"

Still no response.

Sighing, Roy decided to give it one more go, "Okay. I'll read it out for ya. It says, _Dublith must be given the required quantity_-the 'Q' almost like a 'G'- _to mend its existing roads and build new ones and hastily, buildings must necessarily be built near the station itself. Taxes should be lowered. Coalmines should have better facilities_- I wonder what he meant by that! _Experts must be called in for titration as the job is less fit for impatient coal miners._ Okay. Skipping all those, yes, there! This is the point I'm trying to get to, _Traces of several other_-'other' without-the slash in the 'T'_- inorpanic_- yeah, the 'G' almost like a 'P'- _compound-_ with a tiny 'C' and a large 'O'- _found._ _On analysis_- looks almost like 'amoebiosis'- _detection of methane, urea, butane, 1,2-dimethyl but-2,3-dione-_ which looks like no less than Morse code, might I add- _and higher alkanes and alkenes have been made."_

At Maes' sigh, Roy went on, in his trying-so-hard-to-be-normal voice, "So, instead of withstanding this menace, why won't you give him some formal training! In what we call, handwriting!"

Maes gave no response whatsoever. Inatead, he shifted a bit towards his side, his back and shoulders blocking the view of Roy from his desk. The act made Roy less happy- needless to say- and more annoyed. Well, the man still had ways of annoying Roy and amidst of oceans of despair, that trait in him still kept his flairs up!

The act was unexpected and nowhere near gratifying! He was prepared for his words to be waved aside with dignity but not completely throwing them into the trash- which Maes did. Roy could take no more of this killer silence. He stood up from his chair hastily and made his way up to the other with irritated steps.

"What's the matter with you?" he demanded, his dark eyes pinned at the convict's face, " You think that you're the one who is sad about all of these? People die Maes! Sooner or later, everyone loses his loved ones and they have the right to drink to death! But that doesn't mean- here, hey look at me," He continued after putting his hands on Maes' face and forcing him to look straight to that of Roy's, "But that doesn't mean that you'll completely shut others from your life, especially if one of them may commit suicide seeing you like this!"

"So what's your point, Roy? That I need to forget about Gracia- as if nothing happened? No marriage, no accident, no nothing?? That it's all a FUCKING BAD DREAM I'M LIVING IN??"

"IT IS FUCKING BAD DREAM YOUR LIVING IN, MAES! AND THIS DREAQM HAS MADE YOU FORGET ABOUT OTHER IMPORTANT THINGS IN LIFE!"

"LIKE WHAT? DEAD LINES? NO!! THAT'S YOUR CAUSE OF WORRY!"

"THEN STOP MAKING IT YOURS WHILE YOU STILL HAVE THE CHANCE! THIS IS A BULLSHIT OFFICE MAES! WHERE ONE COMES TO WORK AND NOT SULK AROUND ALL DAY! IF YOU'VE SET FOOT IN HERE, THEN EITHER WORK OR GO TO YOUR HOME!"

"WELL SORRY COLONEL MUSTANG FOR GRIEVING OVER MY WIFE WHO HAS BEEN DEAD FOR JUST TWENTY FOUR HOURS! SHE'S GONE, DAMN IT! GONE!!"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to say Maes. She's gone. Get on with your life."

The hint of sudden softness in Roy's voice caught the attention of a oair of odd coloured eyes. Filled with surprise and shock, Maes watched Roy's orbs, softening and melting with warmth, while his own tried hard to resist the flow of tears.

A pregnant silence soon followed between the two with no one making the first move to talk. Neither dared to say anything. Neither dared to even try. What came before the pin-drop stillness was uncalled for. But none were to be blamed. They still needed to adjust themselves with the sudden turn of life. And only twenty four hours was never going to be enough for that adjustment to take place. Not only for the grieving widower but also for his dishevelled friend. Both of the two men were shaken...shaken by the sudden outburst that preceded this intolerable quietness.

Eyes locked to each other's face, the sound of breathing was the only thing that both could hear- breathes hitched high and chests moving in a continuous rhythm...

_Inhale, exhale...inhale, exhale..._

A mild rustling of leaves came from outside the large office window. A gentle breeze flattered the scattered papers on the desk as it touched the men's skins, absorbing a bit of warmth as it disappeared into the room. So quiet, so peaceful, even Nature seemed to understand what the two men were facing right now.

After a prolonged silence, Maes found his voice to speak again. Strained as it was, it was barely audible when he said, "I think...I think I'd better go back to work."

Roy nodded.

"I think, Maes", he said, his voice also not exceeding a whisper, "I think you need to go home. It's-it's better for you if you just- just take your mind off work."

"No, I need to work." Maes replied, "It's the only thing that's gonna keep me sane."

Roy said nothing in return. His eyes simply trailed down to the floor and he kept looking at his feet, still embarrassed while trying to take in the awkward losing of temper.

"But", Maes said again, making Roy look up to his face, wearing a faint smile- more of despair than happiness, "You're right. I think I should just go home for today."

Roy smiled back. He was forgiven. His unheard apology was instantly accepted by the most loyal friend he ever had. It didn't do much. The awkward feeling after their fight was still there in Roy's heart. He still felt guilty for shouting at his friend, for asking him to do something that Roy himself took so many months to do after the Ishbal massacre. Still, it did ease off the tension- even though by a miniature amount. It _still_ showed that Maes was always going to be forgiving and understanding and would always accept his friend's unconventional way of consoling him and that thought itself made Roy feel better.

After all, he only had Maes. His best friend. A companion who was beyond the being usual best friend, a person who gave Roy solace and a reason to keep on living.

He nodded in approval as Maes began stepping towards the door after slowly getting up from the couch. He watched Maes' retreating back- so strong and muscular. Maes was always more muscular than Roy, from the days of the academy. Somehow the man intrigued Roy...and because of that something, they became inseparable friends. The phrase 'best of friends' seemed too less to describe them. It was _beyond_ that relation; beyond lifelong comrades...words couldn't describe the relationship they shared.

Dark eyes slowly drooped down to meet the lower eyelids as a sudden feeling flooded Roy's heart. It was weird. And hard to describe. As if a blend of solace, comfort, and a whole gush of loneliness, being drenched by the emotion of unexplainable character, thus making Roy's heart stuffed and willing to spill over whatever peaceful storm that he was experiencing within his overfilled organ.

It was something that was _there_. The emotion _was_ there. It was _real._ But what it was, couldn't be explained. Couldn't be looked up in some old thesaurus in some dust-filled corner of a library, couldn't be given a definite term. Couldn't be defined...be given a single precise term. Not by a bookworm, who never stepped outside his dark study room, not by the most knowledgeable person in the world, not by one who was based on only facts and nothing more, not by them who didn't feel this undefined emotion.

Not even by Roy.


End file.
